


Angel Dust

by Meowzalot



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Drug Dealer Dean, Drug Use, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Undercover cop Castiel, destiel au, more to come because I suck at tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-07 09:02:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1893201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowzalot/pseuds/Meowzalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean works as a drug dealer on the side. Castiel is an under cover cop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is kind of a test run to see if there's any interest. If there is I will happily keep writing more, and get a beta just for this fic. My normal beta is already busy with me bugging her about my Johnlock stuff. haha. Decided to rate it 'Mature' because of the drug use/other stuff. Will most likely become 'E-rated' at some point.

Everyone dreamed of an assignment like this. An undercover sting operation that would make a career or haunt the person for the rest of their life but Castiel Novak was choosing to look at the positive that could come out of this. He’d only been on the force a few years but during that time he had gone beyond the call of duty to show how serious he was about this.

With a pounding heart Castiel opened the file, letting Michael take a call.

Drug ring they’d been trying to get their claws in for months. The biggest lead so far was about this guy, a ‘Dean Winchester’. Worked nights in a bar. No family besides a younger brother in college. The picture they had of him was blurry but it was impossible to miss the well-formed features.

The guys record went all the way back to middle school. Not for drugs but childish antics that just seemed to get worse as he got older. High school drop-out with a GED.

Castiel glanced up as his boss cleared his throat.

“If you’re uncomfortable with this assignment I more than understand, Mr. Novak. We need your full commitment on this.”

His heart was pounding, almost making it hard to talk. He’d wanted something like this from day one. Didn’t every kid dream of being a cop who actually stopped the bad guys?  
Whatever Michael saw on his face must have been what he was looking for. With a proud smile the man held his hand out across the desk, and Castiel was only too happy to accept the sign of respect his boss offered.

“I’m very honored, sir. Thank you for this opportunity.”

Castiel had the faint moment to wonder if Michael could feel the tremor in his hand before he was dismissed. Being given time to review the case file extensively.

 

“Come on, dude. Please. Just a little more? Think of it like an advance? Please!”

Taking a final swig of beer a small sigh escaped lips that quickly turned down into an annoyed frown. These poor bastards. Dean had that thought at least ten times a night every night, weather it was dealing out another drink to the man so wasted he couldn’t remember what year it was, or weather it was dealing out a little baggie with some pentagram bullshit stamped on the plastic.

He worked two jobs. As far as Sammy was concerned his older brother just worked at ‘The Roadhouse’ and did some detailing car work during the day. It wasn’t a complete lie. Dean licked his lower lip, feeling thirsty for another beer or something stronger.

Grubby hands grabbed at his leather jacket but a single glare and the junkie fell off, tears in beady little eyes Dean couldn’t picture as anything but bloodshot and desperate.

“Dude, if it were Azazel sitting here would you be pulling this cry baby bullshit?” His tone was gruff, mean. Any sign of weakness and the chance of a knife in your kidney sky rocketed. The little scar at his side twitched at just the idea.

The man let out a small sob but didn’t argue the point. The name ‘Azazel’ scared anybody. He was the big man while the actual big, bad, boss man stayed off the radar.

Dean ignored the pitiful sounds as he stood, feeling the need for fresh air. These small house parties were a great way to push product. People feeling the need to blow off steam or try and show off. Dean stepped outside considerably lighter than when he’d first gotten there an hour ago.

Not bothering to stick around and watch his handy work Dean walked the few blocks to where he’d parked the Impala. Even in a place like this no one would fuck with Baby. Perks of the trade.

His personal cell phone buzzed in the glove compartment and the only reason Dean bothered to dig it out was because Sammy had a test that day. The giant moose creature he called a little brother always called after big tests, always scared about failing but always passing.

_’You have one new message’_

_“Dean, where are you? Bobby said you didn’t show up to dinner at Ellens tonight-“_

Fuck! He’d completely forgotten about dinner. Ellen was gonna kill him.

Hitting the re-dial button he thought of a quick excuse for when Sam answered.

“Dean?”

“Hey, Sammy, how’d the test go?”

 

This felt like a bad idea. Castiel tugged slightly at the waist band of a pair of jeans that he’d never worn before. It had been brought to his attention that everything he wore looked ‘old fashioned’ or other variations of the term.

What he was wearing now had mainly just been Charlies idea. Tight jeans that left little to the imagination, and a black button up that she had said brought out his eyes.

“This is hardly about looks, Charlie.” He had grumbled as she patted his stubble covered cheek.

“It’s about playing a part, right? You need to look the part. Trust me. In this they’ll be willing to tell you anything.” Charlie had practically beamed after giving his ass a slap.

Thinking back on that now Castiel reminded himself to buy her something nice. He still stood out in the nightclub but not for the same reasons if he’d worn what he’d actually wanted.

Days of research led him to this spot. Where he was supposed to find Dean Winchester. The music swarmed around him, and the thick scent of crowded bodies made it nearly impossible to breathe but Castiel pushed on.

By the time he made it to the bar there had been no fewer than five grabbing hands, and not all of them women. Not that he had any problem with that, considering he tended to prefer men himself but strangers grabbing him just felt uncomfortable.

The thin material of the dark button up felt too stifling but after rolling up his sleeves Castiel felt a bit more relaxed. He wanted to ask the bar tender if he knew a Dean Winchester but the poor guy was scrambling to keep up as it was.

With a simple beer in hand Castiel turned, propping his elbows on the bar edge and scanning the room. Standard club where drugs were exchanged. ‘Purgatory’ was loud with flashing lights everywhere. Even just from here he could see people mellowing out against walls with a questionably relaxed expression.

“Hey there, sunshine. Haven’t seen you around before.”

It must have taken Castiel a solid minute to realize the person was talking to him. Looking over in surprise he offered a polite smile, heart pounding. Had his cover been blown already? His mind struggled to come up with a quick way to get away when the stranger gave a smile, holding out a glass of some bright green drink.

“Got a name?”

Oh, this person was. . flirting. Castiel cleared his throat. This was not something he was used to anymore.

“Jimmy.”

The mans smile grew wider as the drink was held out. “You look like the type who’d like sweet drinks.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say he wasn’t a drinker but Castiel just chuckled, giving another scan over the crowd.

“You here with somebody?”

“Not exactly.”

The man visibly relaxed before continuing to talk but Castiel couldn’t focus on that. Had that been Dean across the dance floor?

“Jimmy?”

“Oh, sorry, this. . noise.” Castiel flushed, pushing away from the bar.

“Wait! Could I at least buy you a drink? Just one?”

God in Heaven save him. Before Castiel could think about it he’d accepted, not wanting to hurt the poor mans feelings. Being brave enough to approach someone in a bar.

The drink was sweet, making his tongue tingle at the after bite of booze. Frowning Castiel sat the glass down, clearing his throat.

“If you’ll excuse me.” His stomach gave an unpleasant ache when an unfamiliar hand placed itself at his lower back.

“Certainly drank that right down, huh? Need to sit down?”

Castiel slapped the hand away or at least tried to. His limbs were growing heavy.

Oh no.

“I should go.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” The man didn’t sound nervous anymore. Bastard sounded almost gleeful.

“Hey! Chaz!”

Castiel tensed, glaring at the newcomer before his stomach fell to the floor. Dean Winchester stood so close he could just reach out and grab him. Eyes so green he couldn’t speak for a minute landed on him, growing cold before flashing up to Chaz. Castiel could feel the hand on his lower back slip away as words were exchanged.

With a small huff and ‘fuck off, Winchester’ Chaz was gone.

Things were confusing after that. Castiel struggled to keep on his feet as he was taken outside the club, an almost protective arm around his waist. His heart was beating too fast, making his lungs hurt. Next thing he knew he was sitting on the curb away from the noise of the club, a water bottle in hand.

“Just. . lie down. Need to sleep. Please.”

 

What the fuck had Chaz slipped this guy? It was just luck that he’d even noticed in the first place, and had nothing to do with the fact he’d been checkin’ ol’ Blue Eyes out before Chaz tried to chat him up.

Dean knelt in front of him, snapping his fingers. “Stay with me, chief. Look at me.” He ordered, eyes going wide when the poor guy actually looked up.

Who had eyes like that?

No. Oh no. He wasn’t going to get a hard-on for some poor dumbass that had his drink messed with. Hell no.

“Do you remember where you live? Hey!” Dean nearly went falling back as the man sagged forward, passing out in his arms.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He grumbled, blushing when the unconscious figure groaned softly into his shoulder.


	2. Luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, huge thanks to my beta aliziranCrimson. Great person. Seriously. :3
> 
> Also, this chapter is soooo short. Which I am sorry for. Things have been crazy and I mainly wanted to post it so ya'll didn't think it was dropped for good. Longer chapters will happen. With more juicy detail.
> 
> Promise.

Something rubbed against Castiel’s cheek. It wasn’t unpleasant per-say but it was rough, and the scent was a cross between whiskey, leather, and something musky. Groaning softly Castiel pressed in closer, frowning as the object shifted.

Logically this was where someone might realize this wasn’t a normal sleeping situation. They might jerk awake, and take notice of their surroundings. Unfortunately for Castiel his head was pounding, only making him wonder what exactly he’d drank last night. The moving bed was halted by a rough grumble and small threat of beating the pillow into nothing but a mess of feathers.

It was the warm hand brushing over his hair that alerted his scattered thoughts that this wasn’t normal. This was another person.

Castiel struggled not to fall off a rather worn down couch. At least it was clean. As his stomach gave a dangerous roll Castiel could almost feel the blood drain from his face, and the stranger tensed.

“Shit! Bathroom’s right down the hall!” Guy sounded in a near panic but Castiel couldn’t really blame the guy. The scramble to the bathroom was a blur, Castiel focusing on his breathing. Finally kneeling on the bathroom floor he tried to gather his thoughts. Still completely dressed, everything still in his pockets. Nothing felt out of place.

Images came in little spots. The guy that had bought him a drink.

The blood in his body ran cold, breathing a little jagged. The guy had drugged him but nothing hurt in a way that would suggest something had. . happened.

“You okay in there?”

The voice made Castiel jump and search for a weapon of some sort. Anything.

A sharp knock at the door had him grabbing his head, groaning in pain. Leaning back against the bathtub he glared as the door was opened slowly, a very familiar face peeking inside.

Oh.

“Just stay right there.” Dean Winchester was acting very unlike a drug dealer. Drug dealers weren’t supposed to be like some sort of worrying friend but before Castiel knew it a glass of water was in his hand, and a cool wash cloth was pressed against his forehead.

Eyeing the water carefully he questioned it with a look until Dean rolled his eyes, taking a large gulp as if to say ‘See?’

The water tasted like Heaven. That was all Castiel could think as he drank the rest down, practically moaning in pleasure as Dean sat nearby, looking away discretely at the little noises he made.

 

Did he really have to sound like that? It was just water for Christ’s sake! Dean refused to be snarky about it though. After what that little rat bastard almost did to Blue Eyes McSexy hair the guy deserved to just do whatever he wanted right now.

When the blue eyes grew wide in concern at the empty glass Dean actually grinned, taking it away. “Slow down, tiger, or it’ll just come up anyway. You need me to call someone. . ?” He left it open to show he was also asking for a name.

Strangely intense blue eyes met his before the man shook his head, “No, and my name is Castiel.”

“After the Angel?”

Cas looked surprised before smiling gently. “Yes. Most people don’t know that connection.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say his mom had loved Angels. Always saying they were watching over him and Sammy. She had always believed it too. Instead he cleared his throat, standing up to offer his hand to Cas.

“Name is Dean.”

“Nice to meet you, and I’m not putting that lightly.”

Their hands met as they both chuckled, Dean pulling Cas up into a standing position. It only felt natural to place a steadying hand on the others arm when he appeared to stumble. The guy couldn’t be completely okay on his feet yet.

Likewise Cas had reached out, grabbing onto his sleeve with a trembling hand.

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas looked so damn serious that Dean almost felt awkward. Not wanting Cas to just fall over he didn’t move away but he did break eye contact, clearing his throat.

“You don’t need to thank me for that.”

Seriously. Dean had seen some fucked up stuff. Part of his ‘job’ was seeing the fucked up drudges of humanity and what it was capable of but it was just right to do what he did.

The grip on his arm tightened until Dean looked back into blue eyes that were a bit closer than before.

“No, Dean. Thank you.”

 

This hadn’t been the type of man Castiel had expected when searching out Dean Winchester. He had to remind himself that this was still the most viable lead to getting to Alastair. That one good deed would not wipe out the red he knew to be in the man’s book.

Still, even thinking that Castiel couldn’t imagine walking out of here and having Dean not understand how thankful he was.

“Cas, you sure you don’t need me to call somebody?” Dean was holding his arms, looking worried. Had he been about to fall again?

“There is no one to call.” Which wasn’t a complete lie. His only family was hours away but. . “Charlie.” 

In a matter of minutes Castiel had his friend, and co-worker, on the phone. Dean took over the conversation when Castiel needed to lie back down but before he knew it the cell phone was placed on his stomach.

“Said she’ll be here in a few. Also mentioned the numerous ways she’d gut me if anything happened to you. Something about a wand. .”

“Sounds like Charlie,” Castiel chuckled weakly, closing his eyes.

“You need anything? Cas?”

“No one calls me that,” he grumbled from the couch, rolling over onto his side with a faint snore.

 

Michael was looking at him. Not that half look that meant he was paying attention but only because he had to, but the kind of look that had Castiel frozen in place, afraid to even breathe. He still wore everything from last night, not wanting to delay further.

Again those collecting eyes scanned his frame.

“We are glad you’re unhurt, Novak, but your folly last night could have cost us everything. If he had checked your pockets you certainly wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

Castiel crossed his arms behind his back, fingers flexing nervously together. The badge had been hidden to prevent any chance of it being seen and Dean hadn’t checked any of his pockets. Something Castiel should have already questioned but Michael was right. If Dean had known he was a cop there was little chance he’d be standing here. 

“Sir, if I may.” His throat went dry as those already cool eyes grew colder but he didn’t say anything, just gave a sharp nod. “Dean Winchester doesn’t know who I am or what I do. This gives me even more of a motive to see him again.”

Michael was unreadable now and Castiel saw his short career flash before his eyes. Slowly Michaels lips curled into a smile, a chuckle leaving him.

“When do you plan on seeing Mr. Winchester again?”

Castiel pushed away the bile rising in his throat as he returned the smile, wondering what exactly he’d just promised to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finish reading that? Great! You're fantastic. :3
> 
> Comment comment comment. They help so much. Thank you!!


	3. Thanks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge huge thanks to my beta/friend. She did a fantastic job so any mistakes that I missed are my fault, not hers. haha.
> 
> And so so sorry to take so long to post a chapter. Things have been so busy lately. Sorry. Really.

Dean fiddled with the unlit cigarette between the fingers of one hand, pressing further back into the brick wall to try and avoid the downpour. This was an act he’d perfected over years. He stood there looking calm, unbothered, and gave the impression he was the best thing since ready-made apple pie.

No one would have guessed the money stashed inside his coat, or the little baggies buried even further in the deep pockets, let alone the knife harness attached to his leg. At one point he would have sweated, struggling to keep his shit together but Dean wasn’t some newbie bitch anymore.

Scowling at the unlit cig he placed it between his lips, pretending to search his pockets.

“Need a light?”

Innocent question but the tone felt like nails on a blackboard.

The asker was a woman who didn’t appear much younger than him, and what a piece of work she was. Heels clicking on the ground like knife tips, and that outfit.   
“I would say you’d be mistaken for a whore but no reason to worry there,” Dean mumbled with a smirk as Meg simply ‘tsked’ him.

“Very rude thing to say to a stranger,” Meg said with a grin that only made her eyes colder.

Huddled under the bus stop it was easy for him to lean in close as she pulled out a lighter, and at the exact right moment a firmly stuffed envelope was carefully dropped into the hobo bag on Megs arm.

Dean had to force back a cough as he took a puff, letting the end catch the blaze. Pulling away he grinned, winking.

“Thanks, beautiful.”

They parted like two strangers would, him walking off since he couldn’t get on the bus anyway with a lit cig and Meg waiting ‘happily’ for the bus. Not that she’d stay on it for long. She hated riding the damn thing but it was always her idea to do these little meet-ups at bus stops.

The thrill of danger was addicting but Meg always loved to push it just a little bit more. And what are more risky than exchanging drug money in the middle of the day in a place like a bus stop?

By the time he reached the Impala Dean felt like a soaked dog, and debated just walking back later for Baby so he wouldn’t get her wet.

 

This was rather insane, wasn’t it? Castiel hadn’t been completely comfortable with this from the moment Charlie suggested it. Wasn’t this considered stalking?

Standing outside Dean Winchesters door he bit the inside of his cheek, frowning at himself. With Charlie’s skills getting information wouldn’t have been hard but not easy to explain, and he had already been here so it made sense to drop by. That’s how Charlie had explained it.

Pulling the tan coat tighter around his frame Castiel reached out, knocking sharply on the wood. Only to have it go unanswered.

Maybe he wasn’t home. That meant he’d have to do this again.

No.

He was a police officer and not some stalker with time to kill!

Digging around in his suit pocket for a scrap of paper and pen he wrote out his name and number, kneeling down to slip it under the door. This left it in Deans hands for now. If need be he’d just figure out another way to come across Dean.

“Cas?”

Castiel looked over his shoulder, eyes going wide as they ran up the course of Deans body. This must have looked rather peculiar. Considering he was kneeling in front of Deans apartment pushing a note under the door.

“You weren’t home,” Castiel tried to explain. “I came by to thank you.”

Dean stepped in closer, offering a hand out to help him up. Being so closer Castiel could smell the cigarette smoke but also something muskier mixed with leather.

“Cas, you don’t have to thank me. Seriously. It’s fine.” Dean said, backing away as if just realizing how close they were standing.

“You went out of your way to do something many would never consider doing. You also took me into your home and watched over me.”

Freckles. Castiel had never noticed freckles on another person’s face before but Dean had them. A fine little dusting of them it looked like. They only stood out more when Dean blushed.

“Ah, fine then. How about a. . “ Dean looked thoughtful for a second before his expression went dreamy. “a pie.”

Castiel was stunned into silence as he processed the request presented before him.

Well, it actually sounded rather reasonable. A tad bit strange but Castiel honestly wanted to thank Dean, and kind of forget why he was actually here.

Without a word Castiel gave a sharp nod before walking off briskly, already mentally trying to remember if he’d seen a shop nearby. At least the rain had let up a little bit by this point.

 

_Smooth move, Winchester._

The little voice taunted as Dean watched Cas just walk off. Dammit. He hadn’t meant to sound so sarcastic. Okay, maybe a little bit but he hadn’t wanted Cas to leave!  
Face feeling like an inferno he hurried inside, barely noticing the little note on the floor. Grabbing it up he felt tempted to call the number, wanting to apologize. Even if Cas never wanted to see him again for being such a sarcastic prick.

Nah. Cas didn’t give the impression as being his usual type of guy. Nope. Cas looked like one of those guys who’d grown up going to Sunday school only to end up teaching it. No doubt had some stable career that took care of him. Had a good life.

Who needed a Dean Winchester to fuck all that up?

Swallowing back the bitter knot in his throat Dean crumpled the note up, shoving it in his pocket.

Dean kicked his boots off at the door before hanging his jacket up, rolling his shoulders to work out the tension setting in after being in the cold rain. A hot shower would be so bitchin’.

Without a second thought, not counting any about Cas, Dean went to hop in the shower. He didn’t have to bother about ‘work’ until tomorrow so he might as well enjoy this break.

 

The paper bags were a little damp but Castiel still managed to keep everything inside dry. It had helped that he’d wrapped the two bags in his jacket before attempting the walk back to Deans apartment.

He supposed it would have been better to buy a ready-made pie but they were so bland. True they could taste perfectly acceptable but there was always something missing. You could just taste when something had been lovingly hand-made. The detail to each spice added, everything picked just for that one treat. No. If Dean wanted a thank you pie he was going to have one made by him.

The apartment door was unlocked but it didn’t seem as if Dean were in the apartment.

When the faint sound of a shower running hit his ears Castiel felt his heart leap into his throat, making breathing suddenly more difficult than it needed to be.

After giving himself a mental kick Castiel went first to the kitchen, spending a few moments getting to know where everything was before starting.

Suit jacket off and sleeves rolled up he lost himself in putting the pie together. He really should have asked what type Dean wanted but something about the idea of an apple pie had just made sense. So, he stood beside the trash can peeling apples, mind growing complacent with a familiar task at hand.

 

Dean bellowed out the last few notes to ‘Carry on Wayward Son’, turning the knob to cut the water off. The shower was a little longer than technically necessary but the moment the chills in his bones turned warm it had just felt too damn good to get out.

Grabbing a towel he was in the process of drying his hair when the smell hit him.

Right away Dean felt, and heard, his stomach growl at the delicate scent of cinnamon and sugar. Holy fuck, had he died and gone to Heaven while in the shower? Was one of his neighbors baking?

No. It was too strong a smell for that. Sniffing the air he gave a puzzled frown. Smelled like it was in his apartment.

Wrapping the towel around his waist Dean grabbed the knife lying on the bathroom counter, opening the door quietly so he could slip out. Following the scent he peeked around the corner leading into the kitchen, nearly dropping his knife as his mind tried to take stock of what exactly he saw.

Cas was humming to himself, eyes glued to the stove top.

Silently Dean just watched the mans profile for a few moments before realizing just how damn creepy he must look.

“Cas?”

“Dean, I hope you are pleased with apple. . pie. . oh. .”

Dean had stepped into view, towel held tightly around his waist as he perched on the edge of the wall. Mainly to hide the knife but it also looked a little cool, right?

“Makes sense a guy named after an Angel would make a pie that smells like damn Heaven,” he joked, unable to help the flirty smile.

No. Back up, Winchester. What type of bastard was he acting like? This could totally give the wrong idea. Not that he’d hate it at all if Cas came onto him but not when the guy was looking for ways to ‘thank him’. Way too many ways this could be taken the wrong way.

Crap. Now he was thinking about Cas coming onto him. Big blue eyes hazy with lust, deep voice moaning in pleasure.

He would not get a hard-on. He would _not_ get a hard-on.

“I’ll, uh, be right back.”

 

The oven gave a sharp ‘beep’ to announce it was pre-heated enough, nearly causing Castiel to jump out of his skin. Even after Dean had left the spot he’d just stared, completely stunned at the sight of a damp, half naked Dean Winchester just. . there.

The suspect Dean Winchester. This wasn’t personal. The badge tucked deep in his pants pocket weighed heavily all of a sudden but it was good. He wasn’t here to ogle Dean like some sex starved harlot. The only thing that needed to come out of this was a friendship.

Before he ruined Dean’s life to get to his boss.

By the time Castiel shoved the pie in the oven his hands were nearly shaking, heart beating oddly in his chest.

Well, Michael had warned him about this. Even suggested he was too emotional for such a task but Castiel had known he could do this.

He still knew he could do this. How many kids had he seen strung out with a baggie from Dean’s boss? So many lives he’d seen ruined. Taking away one of the drug rings wouldn’t solve the entire problem but it was a start. If Alastair could be taken down then maybe it would scare others to see one of the most powerful men in the city arrested. 

Building his reasoning back up Castiel felt much more calm when Dean joined him in the kitchen again, this time fully dressed.

“Dude, I can’t believe you baked me a pie.” Dean was looking at the oven like it held the best news he’d ever gotten.

“That is what you requested, Dean.”

Now Dean was looking at him and Castiel felt his cheeks grow warm. Had he missed a joke or something? His older brother had always said he lacked a certain understanding for modern comedy.

“Cas, I ain’t ever gonna bitch about free pie.”

A strong hand patted his shoulder, green eyes flashing warmly.

“’Cas’.” He murmured, tilting his head to the side while running the name over his tongue. No one had ever called him that before from what he could recall. People always stuck with ‘Castiel’ or simply ‘Novak’. Castiel was so focused on the new nick-name he didn’t even notice that Deans hand lingered on his shoulder until the others phone started ringing. The sudden noise appeared louder than it most likely was.

Castiel took the moment to check the pie, not that it actually needed it. Of course he also watched Dean from the corner of his eye, noting the way his expression seemed to shut down as he turned away to look at the screen.

Suddenly it was like a switch. The sheer amount of affection had Castiel questioning who the caller could be.

“’Cuse me.” Dean said, leaving the room as he answered with a jokingly stern “And where have you been? Not answering your phone until morning.”

Must have been the younger brother. Sam Winchester. Stanford. Didn’t appear to know anything about what his older brother did for a living.

The conversation in the other room didn’t sound like it would be cutting off anytime soon. By now Dean was teasing Sam about some mystery girl and Castiel felt like a dirty sneak listening in. Most likely his cue to leave then.

Making sure to leave a note on when to pull the pie out he attempted to sneak out, only to have a strong hand grab him by the back of the jacket.

“Give me a sec, Sammy.”

_“Don’t call me that!”_ Castiel heard the voice even over the phone but his attention was for the man holding him from leaving the apartment.

“I don’t wish to intrude on your personal space, Dean.” Castiel answered to the unasked question. Without thinking about it he pulled his pin out, grabbing the hand holding his jacket to write something on the palm.

With that he was off, leaving a stunned Dean Winchester to stare at the number written on his hand.


	4. Torn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by aliziranCrimson. Very very helpful. As usual. <3
> 
> I am so so beyond sorry this took so long. And I am so sorry it's so short. I promise to work on that but I wanted to give ya'll something.

Who was Dean Winchester? If you had asked Castiel Novak that even a few weeks ago he would have said a drug dealer, lackey to one of the most dangerous men in the city. A potential key to bringing down that dangerous man.

Now, it wasn’t so simple but it should be! Castiel had never felt so conflicted in his life and it didn’t make sense. Looking down at the file on Dean Winchester again he read over the stats and other details listed but Dean wasn’t just a somewhat blurry picture anymore.

He was a big brother who appeared to put most of his self-worth into what Sam Winchester accomplished. He was a loyal adopted son to one Mr. Bobby Singer, a man with a little past of his own. He had a strange pie habit. He had nightmares that would wake him almost screaming. Castiel had only seen it once and by accident. They hadn’t spent a night together but Dean had fallen asleep on the couch and it had just. . . happened.

Shutting the file with a bit more force than actually needed Castiel stood, nearly pushing the chair into the dark skinned figure behind him.

“Raphael, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” Castiel cleared his throat, cheeks flushing at his carelessness. Of course he’d nearly trip over the one man who gave off a very unwelcoming vibe.

Ink black eyes flickered from the chair to Castiel’s face, and it was a struggle not to break eye contact first.

“Looking at the Winchester file again, Novak?”

Something in his chest tightened at the tone but nothing in his expression showed.

“He’s a vital part of my case.”

“’It’,” Raphael actually glared before continuing, “don’t tell me you actually see Winchester as a person. You know what he does.”

Castiel felt his blood run cold. The law wasn’t so simple. Innocent until proven guilty, right? Dean was a person.

“Novak-“

“I really have to go, sir.”

“We’ll finish this conversation soon enough, Castiel.”

Of that Castiel had no doubt but for the time being he excused himself, searching for somewhere he could just take a moment to re-group.

 

Dropping the dirty rag into a bin Dean wiped the remaining oil off on his jeans, humming to himself as he stepped back to admire his work. It had been awhile since he’d gotten a chance to get down and dirty at Bobby’s garage but it was like riding a bike. Get tools in his hands and Dean was almost as happy as when someone put a pie in his hands.

Dean barely looked away from the car as he went to answer his cell phone, holding it up to his ear with a cheerful greeting. Well, as cheerful as he could muster anyway. Sam always said it sounded cocky.

“Ah, Dean, you sound busy.”

The rough voice still sent shivers down his spine, and Dean was _still_ trying to ignore that.

“Nah, Cas, what’s up?” What the hell time was it? Normally Cas had work and it was damn near impossible to reach him. “You alright?”

“I’m fine, Dean. Just. . . long day.” Cas gave a laugh that didn’t sound right. It didn’t sound like Cas.

“You sure you okay?” Dean left the noise of the garage by stepping into Bobby’s currently empty office, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Cas laughed again but at least it sounded a bit more perked up.

“You up for getting together tonight? I know plenty of places to drown out bad work days,” Dean offered, grip getting a little tighter on the phone. He didn’t want to flat out say he was looking forward to seeing Cas, that he really wanted to get together tonight just because it felt weird not to.

“Of course.” 

Dean could just see that confused head tilt and choked back a laugh.

“Ah, Dean, I have to go. I’ll. . . see you soon. Thank you.”

“Feel free to ring whenever, Cas.”

A part of him wanted to call right back and demand to know what was wrong. Dean didn’t know what Cas did for a living but he always gave the vibe that he loved it. Raking fingers through his hair Dean quickly put a pin in that mental conversation.

They’d only been hanging out for a few weeks, and they were nowhere near like a couple or anything. Just two guys who enjoyed getting together.

Pretty much every night.

“Boy! Did you forget whose office this is?!”

Dean stepped aside just in time to avoid the door handle being jammed into his back as Bobby forced his way into the office.

“It was either come in here or be spied on,” Dean defended.

“Everything alright with Sam?” Bobby always read him way too well, for the most part.

Dean cleared his throat, shoving the phone back into his pocket. “Ya. Yep. Sammy is A-Okay,” Dean said with a sharp nod, just letting Bobby assume that had been Sam on the phone.

“I know. Just got done talking to him,” Bobby said, shutting the door calmly.

Oh for fucks sake.

Dean huffed, face turning into a blank mask but that didn’t bother Bobby any.

“This about that Sunday school teacher?”

“He’s not a Sunday school teacher!” Dean corrected, cursing when Bobby smirked and chuckled. “He just needed to ask me something about his car.”

“You coming to dinner? Ellen wanted a headcount.”

“Can’t. Busy.” Dean felt his face grow hot. Hoping to avoid Bobby actually seeing the blush he went for the door, mentally cringing when Bobby laughed at his retreating back.

 

XxXxX

 

Castiel wasn’t one to throw around the word ‘miracle’ but being able to avoid Raphael the rest of the day felt like one. That appeared to be where his luck ended.

Charlie informed him the wire was almost set up and ready to go. Michael had wanted state of the art equipment that wouldn’t risk being seen, and had splurged the second he heard how close Castiel had gotten to Winchester already.

The next time he got to see Dean he’d be wired. Everything would be recorded by Charlie and slowly things would build up a case. That was over simplifying things quite a bit but Castiel couldn’t really think about it. Not without that gnawing guilt slowly working its way up his gut.

Could Raphael be right? 

The thought was far from pleasant but Raphael was far more experienced than he. If he was getting too close what should he do? Backing out of the case would only push everything back, and Dean wasn’t a bad person but the people he worked for. He couldn’t risk them wiggling out of this.

Heading to Deans was spent mainly at war with himself. If he were smart maybe he’d just tell Dean tonight wasn’t any good. That’s what Castiel kept telling himself even as he pulled up to the familiar building, got out and went upstairs.

The plan changed to he’d just call it an early night. A few minutes would be fine. It would just keep the charade going at least.

 

Was that a knock on the door?

Yep. That was a knock alright. Dammit. Right when his hands were covered in damn ground beef.

“Come in!” Dean yelled.

“Dean?”

“In the kitchen, Cas!”

Looking up Dean gave a lopsided grin, shrugging. “Would have gotten that for you but grease on door knobs is a bitch to clean.”

The head tilt while blue eyes went from the bowl up to his face.

“Don’t have’ta look so surprised,” Dean grumbled but, to be fair, a lot of people were caught off guard after finding out he could cook. Ellen had been one hell of a teacher.

“My apologies.”

It was on the tip of Deans tongue to tell the guy to stop being so formal but it didn’t look like Cas even meant it. Old habits most likely.

“Things ever settle down at work?” Dean asked instead, feeling his chest tighten. It felt like a personal question. Something about it felt more intimate than it had any business of being but maybe it was the wording. Too late to change it now. “Beer’s in the fridge.”

Cas looked thoughtful as he went to grab a drink. “Yes and no. Let’s just say it could have gotten worse but didn’t so I’m thankful for that.”

Without warning Cas was just. . . there. So close Dean could feel his warmth, just watching him work.

“Uh, Cas?”

“Hm?”

Their eyes met for a brief second and Dean almost forgot what he wanted to say. Something about personal space.

“Could you actually tip a little bit of that salt into the bowl?”

Without questioning it Cas did so, bringing him just a little bit closer.

Oh fuck. He was in trouble. So much trouble.

“Is that enough, Dean?”

Was Cas’ voice rougher than before?

“Ya. Perfect actually. These should be done in no time. If you wanted to just go watch the game or something.”

“I find this rather enjoyable. It’s relaxing.”

Ya. He was in completely over his head now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments comments comments. Please and thank you. It shows me what you really like about the fic so far or what needs changing up a bit. If you don't have time that's totally cool.
> 
> Kudos are also nice but if you feel the story doesn't deserve it yet that's completely fine. :3

**Author's Note:**

> Read through all that? Awesome. Just tell me if you want more or if you even think I should just re-do the first chapter. If you wanna leave anon comments here's my Tumblr: http://chicka-chicka-meowmeow.tumblr.com/


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